


Finger Paints and Strawberry Jam

by greenikat89



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-02-23 10:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenikat89/pseuds/greenikat89
Summary: Inspired by the Inception Kinkmeme: Something goes wrong with Yusuf's most recent compound and Eames is both mentally and physically turned into a child of about five years old.He immediately latches onto Arthur, who tries to pass him off to Cobb/Ariadne/anyone to no avail. Plus Arthur can't help but melt in the face of adorable little baby Eames with an adorable little baby accent.  Maybe spending time with little Eames will help Arthur figure out some long buried truths when the adult Eames returns.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this years ago. I just picked it up again and have the rest of the chapters mostly written. I'm terribly sorry to the anon who requested this and it took forever. Full prompt below:
> 
> I know there are a few fics like this out there but I want moar plz.
> 
> Something goes wrong with Yusuf's most recent compound and Eames is both mentally and physically turned into a child of about 5-6 (lol science).
> 
> He immediately latches onto Arthur, who tries to pass him off to Cobb/Ariadne/anyone to no avail. Plus Arthur can't help but melt in the face of adorable little baby Eames with an adorable little baby accent. 
> 
> Basically I just want Arthur and bb!Eames spending time together (with lots of cuddling plz?), and Eames being a tiny bad ass and wreaking havoc while the team tries to get work done. And the more time Arthur spends with bb!Eames, the more he realizes he needs to face his feelings of lurve for grown up!Eames once he's back to normal.
> 
> Bonus points if Eames is really possessive of Arthur and bites anyone who comes too close to him.
> 
> More bonus points for Eames and Yusuf getting along great and exploding/melting/creating things much to Arthur's disapproval.
> 
> Oh and happy ending with Eames returning to normal please! Thanks!  
> https://inception-kink.livejournal.com/19632.html?view=52124848#t52124848

Yusuf pushed his goggles up on his forehead with a sheepishly puzzled look. “Well,” he said and rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “I guess I need to do more work.” 

“You think?” Arthur asked dryly and tried to pull a clinging Eames from his pants leg. The small grubby hands were clenched tight enough to wrinkle the expensive fabric that Arthur knew his dry cleaner was going to have to work magic to get out.

“Mine,” the child declared in a high, British accent and clutched tightly to the man.

“I think he’s cute,” Ariadne cooed. Her heart had instantly melted at the sight of a five-year-old Eames. He was an adorable little boy with wide green-blue eyes, messy chocolate hair, and pink lips that were pulled into a tiny little pout. She waved her fingers at him when the boy glanced at her before hiding his face against Arthur’s leg again.

Cobb couldn’t help a wistful smile from curling the edge of his lips. Eames reminded him of his own children. “Yusuf, can you change him back?” Their work was no place for a child to be and he really needed the forger back to normal. 

Yusuf nodded. “I think so. I’d need some time to find out what went wrong.” He trailed off in thought and plucked a pen from behind his ear to scribble something down on scrap paper. “I think a week at least.”

“Who’s going to take care of Eames in the mean time?” Ariadne asked. 

“Arthur can,” Cobb responded.

Arthur’s eyebrows snapped together in a frown. “Excuse me?” He’d been trying to pull Eames’ hands off of him, but the tyke kept letting go just to grab another fistful of fabric somewhere else. He was like a human barnacle. “Why me?” 

“I still have classes and don’t have the room for him,” Ariadne said.

“I’ll be working on my formula to try and reverse what happened,” Yusuf supplied.

“And I don’t have the time to take care of him.” Cobb clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It’s only a week, Arthur. You can handle it.”

Arthur scowled and gave up trying to get Eames off of him. “I hate you all,” he muttered, feeling largely betrayed by his teammates. 

“Mine,” Eames declared again and gave a matching scowl to the members of the room as if to affirm ownership. “My Arthur.”

Cobb shot Arthur an amused look. “Well I guess that’s settled then. Let’s end early for the day and regroup tomorrow afternoon.”

“But-” Arthur began to object but his teammates quickly packed up and were headed out the door, leaving him alone with a clingy five-year-old Eames. He sighed and resisted the urge to run an agitated hand through his hair. 

“I guess I’ll…take you back to my apartment,” he said awkwardly, feeling at a loss for once in his life and unsure of what to do. He didn’t even know how to begin to take care of a child. 

Eames beamed up at him with an all toothy grin and instantly latched onto his hand. “I like you,” he stated simply and Arthur felt himself relax a little bit in the face of an adorable, little boy. 

Maybe his week wouldn’t be so bad.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur immediately took back anything positive he had ever thought about children. “Ariadne I’m serious,” he hissed, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder while he stirred a bowl of something gray and lumpy. The box said it was supposed to be pancake mix but Arthur had his suspicions that someone had actually switched it for a bag of cement mix. There was no way it was supposed to be this hard to stir.

 

 _“Oh Arthur, you’re being silly,”_ came Ariadne’s amused voice through the phone.   _“You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. If you can handle zero-gravity fights then you can certainly handle a small child who adores you.”_

“That’s different,” Arthur protested. He stepped out of his kitchen to check on Eames who was lying on his stomach watching TV. The boy turned to look at him and flashed a wide smile with a tiny wave from his position on the floor. Arthur gave a curt nod before going back to the kitchen to furtively find that box of pancake mix again to look at the directions. “Give me a name and I can find out any information on them within the hour. Put a gun in my hand and I can take on a room full of thugs. Stick me with a five year old and I’m- Jesus!” He almost dropped the bowl when he turned around and nearly bumped into Eames.

 

Ariadne giggled. _“You’re Jesus, hm? I don’t think you look nearly old enough for it.”_

Arthur was very thankful that he’d locked his gun away as soon as he’d brought Eames home with him. He didn’t want to explain to Cobb why they needed a new forger because his trigger-happy reflexes had kicked in when child Eames had snuck up on him. “Look, Ariadne, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” He disconnected before she could respond and tossed his phone on the kitchen counter.

 

“Yes Eames?” he asked patiently and tried to calm his frazzled nerves. He was not good with children and he honestly didn’t know how Cobb did it with two of them.

 

The little boy stuck his thumb in his mouth, his other hand clasped onto the ties of Arthur’s frilly apron. (It had been a joke gift from Eames and the only thing Arthur had to cover up his expensive suit while he attempted to cook for the boy.) “Can I help?”

 

“I..uh..” Arthur looked down at the bowl again and figured Eames couldn’t do much worse than him. “Be very careful, okay?” He pulled out a chair for Eames to stand on and the boy eagerly climbed up. “All you need to do is take the spoon and…apparently stir with your hands,” he finished with a sigh. Eames giggled and grabbed another fistful of mix to stir up.

 

Arthur quickly pulled up the little boy’s sleeves so they wouldn’t get dirty (although seeing Eames’ horrific paisley shirt shrunk down to fit him was almost child abuse and he wouldn’t mind having an excuse to throw it out). “I’m helpin’,” the boy said proudly and played with the batter. “Just like Arthur.”

 

There was obvious affection in his voice and the man nearly smiled. “Yes you are,” Arthur said and watched the child for a minute or two. Satisfied that Eames wasn’t doing too terribly he decided to turn on the stove. There was a slight chance the pancakes would be edible.

 

Of course the minute his back was turned there was a squeaky “uh-oh” followed by the sound of his ceramic bowl shattering all over his marble kitchen tiles. He turned around to see a shamefaced Eames scowling in an effort not to cry while covered in pancake mix. “`m sorry,” said Eames in a tiny voice and sniffled.

 

Arthur felt a flare of panic go through him because he had no clue what to do with a _crying_ child. “No, hey it’s all right Eames,” he said and stepped over the mess to pat the child on the back. “Accidents happen.” Eames immediately latched onto Arthur’s shoulders, and the man nearly stumbled with the sudden extra weight on him.

 

It was awkward and a little bit difficult to move around with Eames in his arms, the boy’s head buried between the junction of his shoulder and neck, but Arthur was proud he didn’t drop him. “Let’s get cleaned up and I’ll make you something else before bed?”

 

They ended up eating strawberry and honey sandwiches because it was the only thing Arthur had in his kitchen. Eames hadn’t seemed to mind from the way he’d scarfed down two. The boy was now fast asleep in Arthur’s bed wearing one of his shirts after having a bath. The mess in the kitchen was cleaned up (sadly, Arthur’s suit couldn’t be saved), and Arthur was ready for bed himself. The problem was he didn’t know where to sleep.

 

He scratched the back of his head and wondered if it was too late to call Ariadne. She always seemed to have the answers however the relentless mocking might not make it worth it. He didn’t have any place else to put Eames other than the couch and even he wouldn’t do that to a child. He could always sleep there instead…

 

Almost as if he sensed it, Eames opened his eyes and caught Arthur trying to sneak out the bedroom door. “Stay wit’ me,” he demanded sleepily and reached out a pudgy hand. Wide eyes looked at him, both pleading and demanding and Arthur sighed. One night wouldn’t hurt him.

 

He padded back towards the bed and slipped beneath the covers on the opposite side of the bed. He could feel tiny movements as Eames shifted across the bed with sleepy determination until he was pressed against him. Little hands curled into his shirt as the boy snuggled next to him with a satisfied sigh. “Mine,” he murmured again, thumb once again stuck in his mouth before falling off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur immediately felt all eyes on him when he walked into the warehouse the following afternoon. “What?” he asked self-consciously and shifted Eames’ weight in his arms so he could set down his coffee cup on his desk. (Eames had refused to walk anywhere since they’d left his apartment and had clung onto him like a spider monkey while making rude remarks at anyone who glanced Arthur’s way. The little terror.)

 

“Is that a man purse?” Yusuf asked.

 

Arthur frowned in irritation and tried to set Eames down. “It’s not a man purse, Yusuf,” he said patiently and gently tugged his tie out of Eames’ hands. “It’s a leather satchel filled with stuff for Eames throughout the day so he won’t get bored.” It was mostly filled with puzzle books, juice boxes, and Tupperware containers packed with healthy snacks that Ms. Weaver, his neighbor from down the hall, was more than happy to make once she saw Eames.

 

“You’re late,” Cobb said tersely and went back to looking at the whiteboard scribbled with notes and symbols all over it. Eames stuck his tongue out at him.

 

Ariadne couldn’t contain a little squeal at how cute Eames looked, especially with his hair parted to the side and slicked down. “Don’t you look like a little darling,” she cooed and watched Eames look up at her from the safety of Arthur’s legs. “Did you pick it out all by yourself?”

 

Eames, always one to preen before a lovely lady, smiled and nodded his head. He took a couple steps away from the man to show off better. “Arthur picked it,” he said proudly and pulled at the hem of his shirt to point to the British flag on it.

 

Yusuf coughed in amusement. “I’m surprised you didn’t stick him in a suit like yours.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m not that incompetent with children,” he responded a little defensively because he actually _had_ tried to put Eames in a suit. The boy had refused to try on any of the suits Arthur had picked out for him at Ralph Lauren claiming it was ‘too icky, Arthur” and pouting up a storm. Arthur had been slightly exasperated at that point because there was nothing wrong with Ralph Lauren (it was something his mother used to dress him in when he was little), and had finally thrown up his hands and asked where Eames wanted to shop.

 

Apparently, tiny Eames still had the same streak of fashion independence as his adult counterpart. Arthur had put his foot down on a garish orange and teal fleece sweatpants and they’d settled on a compromise. Eames was wearing a soft gray hoodie with a British flag graphic silk-screened across the front. A plaid blue and gray button down peeked out underneath, half the collar popped up and one shirt end untucked from his navy cargo pants when he’d wiggled too much in Arthur’s arms. Gray Velcro shoes completed the look, and Eames had been more than happy to add in blue and teal striped socks and the giant orange headphones now dangling around his neck with French music softly playing from them.

  

Cobb rapped his knuckles against the whiteboard. “People, can we please get back to the task at hand? Yusuf, I want you to work on getting Eames back to normal. Ariadne, keep working on the architecture in level two. And Arthur I need to see those files about our target again.”

 

There were murmurs of agreement as everyone went about their tasks and Arthur knelt down to look Eames in the eyes. “Eames, I have work to do but I bought a lot of activities to keep you occupied. Do you think you could do that for a couple hours?”

 

Eames frowned and toyed with the hem of his shirt. “Stay with you?” he asked sadly.

 

“I’ll be right in this room and you can see me at any time, okay?” Arthur responded and set about unpacking his bag to lay out toys and books on his desk. “Let me know if you need anything.”

 

“Kay.” Eames pouted but climbed up on Arthur’s swivel chair to get at a pack of crayons.  

 

“Arthur,” Cobb called from across the room and waved his him over.

 

Arthur patted Eames on the head and quickly walked towards Cobb, acutely aware of the bright eyes on his back. He hoped Eames would be all right by himself for a bit.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur nearly upset his coffee in surprise when a hand slammed down on his desk. “Arthur, we need to talk,” Cobb said through gritted teeth looking much squintier than usual.  His hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times and there looked to be a bite mark on his forearm. Arthur frowned in disapproval and shot a suspicious look at Ariadne. She was really much too young for Cobb. He’d have to pull her aside later about smarter sex partner choices.

 

However he kept his remarks to himself and instead shuffled his loose papers into a neat pile. “About what?” He tried to remember if he’d missed any information gathering to give to Cobb (ha) or details he’d forgotten (double ha), but nothing came to mind.

 

“Eames,” Cobb answered and almost as if in response an explosion sounded on the other side of the room. Arthur swiveled in his chair to see a plume of purple smoke billowing from a beaker and coating two white-coat scientists- one that looked dismayed and one that looked positively gleeful.

 

“Ah,” Arthur said and hoped Yusuf remembered to teach Eames about safety in their experiments. It became apparent on the first day of taking Eames to the warehouse that the child had a fondness for the chemist. Every day since then Arthur had allowed Eames to experiment with Yusuf provided he was equipped with proper safety gear and took all necessary precautions. He was _pretty_ sure Yusuf wasn’t creating any more explosions than usual.

 

“Arthur, you have to keep a better eye on Eames.” Cobb glared at Eames from across the room when another explosion rocked the rafters of the warehouse. A chunk of plaster from the ceiling fell and nearly clocked Cobb on his head.

 

“Are you questioning my parenting skills?” Arthur asked frostily. He’d have Cobb know that he’d checked out all the latest parenting books the first night of having Eames over and had read them cover to cover. He might not be the perfect parent (Arthur still couldn’t cook but Eames didn’t seem to mind having take-out for dinner every night), but he was _trying._

 

Cobb slanted him a look. “What? Arthur I’m talking about Eames being a little terror. We can’t get any work done.”

 

Well that was just silly. Eames had been nothing but a little angel whenever Arthur checked up on him. These past couple days had actually been rather enjoyable so much as spending time with a child went. He’d bought more children appropriate stuff for his apartment and Eames had his own bed in the second bedroom outfitted with toys and a playscape and anything else a five-year-old boy would desire (courtesy of Saito of whom everyone was surprised to find out loved to play the doting grandfather role).         

 

Arthur leaned back in his chair and propped his chin in his hand. “I’m getting work done now, aren’t I?”

 

Cobb sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Only because he leaves you alone. Ariadne-“

 

“-is almost finished with her buildings,” Arthur supplied.  

 

“Only because Eames decided to stop re-enacting Godzilla for everyone.” Cobb crossed his arms over his chest. “And Yusuf-”

 

“-is experimenting with Eames who is helping him fix the compound so he can go back to normal.”

 

Another explosion sounded in the warehouse followed by shattering glass.   “You call that helping?” Cobb scowled and made a sweeping gesture to the pair. “Look Arthur, I’m not arguing with you. Either keep Eames under control or I’ll – fuck!”

 

“Cobb, no swearing in front of the children!” Arthur snapped, absolutely scandalized at his language. How on Earth did this man become a father when he was going around swearing for impressionable young minds to hear?

 

Cobb jerked away from a now glowering Eames to rub at his forearm. “He bit me! Again!”

 

Eames bared his teeth that looked quite frightening when his face was coated in purple film. “You stop bein’ mean t’ Arthur!” he declared and snapped his teeth at Cobb who hastily snatched his arm away. Eames quickly attached himself to Arthur’s arm in a possessive grip and glared menacingly at the wounded man.

 

Arthur smothered a smile at the young boy. “You see, Cobb? Eames knows about manners.” He arched an eyebrow in response to the frustrated look Cobb was shooting him.

 

“Just…make sure Eames is on his best behavior,” Cobb sighed with a defeated look on his face. His eyebrows came together in a pinched expression while he absently rubbed the spot Eames had bit him. “We do have a job to run.” And with that he left to wander over to a different part of the warehouse while muttering under his breath.

 

Eames giggled when he was lifted up under his arms and deposited in Arthur’s lap. “Now Eames, that wasn’t a very nice thing to do,” the point man said patiently and smoothed a lock of hair that had come loose from Eames’ neat side part. “Young gentlemen don’t bite people.”

 

“But he was bein’ mean!” Eames’ little face scrunched up in an angry pout. “Don’t like it.” His hands gripped the front of Arthur’s suit as he pressed himself as close as possible to the man.    

 

Arthur felt a swell of affection rise up within him. “Cobb might be a little rough around the edges, but he means well.” He patted Eames atop his head to soothe the boy. “How about we go get ice cream tonight after I’m done?”

 

Eames perked up and excitedly swung his dangling legs. “With extra jimmies and chocolit’ sauce?” he asked with a toothy grin.

 

“If that’s what you want after a healthy dinner,” Arthur responded with a small smile in kind. The boy’s sweet tooth certainly hadn’t shrunk down to his size. “Just let me finish these up and we can go.”

 

The little boy nodded and Arthur slid a secure arm around Eames so he wouldn’t tumble off his lap while he clicked open some files on his laptop. Despite the unpredictability of his week, it was nice to sit and have some quiet time with his team.

 

An explosion sounded on the other side of the warehouse followed by the smell of burnt hair. “Sorry!” Yusuf gave a strangled cough. “So sorry, don’t mind me!” Another explosion rocked the warehouse. Eames shrieked with delighted laughter and wiggled out of Arthur’s grip to run towards Yusuf, much to Arthur’s worried displeasure.

 

Of course that quiet time never lasted.


	5. Chapter 5

“Higher, Arthur, higher!” Eames demanded with delight. He giggled when Arthur pushed the swing a little harder to make the boy soar through the air.

 

“Make sure to hold on tight,” Arthur reminded. He eyed the foam chip ground with a distrustful eye. It didn’t seem like the safest place to land in his opinion, but the children playing in the park seemed no worse for wear.

 

He gave another push before stepping back so Eames could pump his legs and propel himself. The little boy nodded in determination as he swung back and forth. He seemed to enjoy the swings just as much as he did an hour ago when they got to the park.

 

Arthur smiled and shook his head, but he didn’t really mind. He made his way to the park bench right across from the swing set facing Eames. It was far enough away that he wasn’t hovering, but close enough to keep an eye on Eames should the boy take a tumble.

 

“I’m an airplane, Arthur!” Eames hollered high up in the arc of his swing. “Look at me!”

 

The point man waved in response. “Yes, I see you.” He pulled out a slim notebook to write down some memos pertaining to the stalled job. Yusuf was still having trouble turning Eames back, and the child looked the same as always with no hint of the man he actually was.

 

He kept one eye on the boy while scribbling down some topics he wanted to look up later after Eames went down for his later afternoon nap. Technology had their uses, but there was something soothing about handwriting out his thoughts. He was pulled from them by the sounds of someone approaching. He snapped his notebook closed.

 

“Mind if I sit here?” a deep voice asked.

 

Arthur’s gaze subtly flicked over the man. Late-thirties. Dark skinned male. Worked in trade of some sort judging by the well-worn work boots. “By all means,” Arthur said and moved over to make room.

 

“Thanks,” he said and dropped down on the seat. He had a purple princess backpack slung over one broad shoulder that he slid off to set beside him. “You new here? Jack.”

 

Arthur debated for a second with giving an alias, but immediately nixed the idea because of Eames. “Arthur,” he responded in kind and shook the calloused hand. “I’m just visiting.”

 

Jack stretched his long legs out in front of him. “That’s a shame, it’s always nice seeing some more men in the area. It’s usually just a lot of women around here.” He smiled and waved back at the twin black girls that were vigorously waving from the top of a yellow slide. “My girls, Liana and Elora.”

 

The point man waved as well. “That’s Eames on the right,” Arthur said and nodded towards the swing set. It looked like Eames had made some sort of friend, and both of them were trying to swing as high as they could.

 

“If you’re in the area for a little bit, then maybe we can set up a play date in the future.” Jack dug around in the backpack and pulled out half a coloring page. “My girls look around the same age as yours. I’ve always thought it’d be nice to have a father’s play group.”

 

Father. That simple word struck Arthur in a funny way. He’d never really thought about what Eames was to him in this pint-sized form, but he didn’t view himself as a father. Eames was Eames and he was Arthur and that was that. Did young Eames see him as a father? Would the adult version once he was aged back?

 

“Arthur?” Jack was holding out the coloring book page with his number scrawled in the corner in block handwriting. His smile faded a bit. “Sorry if I came off as too forward. There’s just not a lot of fathers as primary care givers in the area.”

 

“No, no it’s fine.” Arthur took the page and neatly folded it into thirds. He smiled in a disarming way that he knew brought out his dimples. “I think we’ll be in the area for several days more days. Eames could use some playmates.” Yusuf still hadn’t had any luck reversing the process.

 

A broad grin broke across Jack’s face. “That’s great, man. I think myself and my girls would really like that.”

 

Quick footsteps could be heard crunching over gravel as Eames ran towards the bench. “Arthur! What are you doin’?” he demanded slightly out of breath from his previously running around. “Who’s that?”

 

“Step-father,” he said glibly by way of explanation when Jack quirked a questioning brow. “Eames, that’s no way to behave around guests,” Arthur directed as the little boy with slight admonishment. “This is Mr. Jack, and we were thinking about setting up a play date.”

 

Eames scowled and stood close to the point man. “This is MY Arthur!” he said defensively at the stranger with his hands fisted in Arthur’s jacket.

 

“Oh is that right, little man?” Jack asked with clear amusement dancing in his eyes.

 

The little boy nodded. “An’ he’s th’ bestest person EVER. I wanna play wit’ him first.”

 

Jack chuckled. “Well that’s fair, I wouldn’t want to take away your play time.” He got off the bench to kneel eye-level with Eames. “You see those girls on the swing set now?” he asked with a head nod.

 

Still holding onto Arthur with one hand, Eames turned his head to look in that direction. “Uh-huh.”

 

“Those are my two little girls. Arthur said you could use more friends while you’re here, and I know they’d love to play games later,” Jack said with a fond look. “How about you play with Arthur now, and later on we can all play a different day. Deal?” He held out his hand for a handshake.

 

Eames chewed on his lip in thought before nodding decisively. “Deal,” he said and slipped his much smaller hand into the larger one.  

 

“That sounds like a wonderful plan.” Arthur pulled Eames up into his lap. The little boy was making the universal ‘up’ sign with his hands. “What do you say, Eames?”

 

Settled firmly in Arthur’s lap, Eames looked a lot more comfortable. “Thank you,” he said in the most polite way that he could manage.

 

Jack brushed the dirt off his knees as he got up. “Well thank you. Now I think it’s about time for my family to have dinner.” He picked up the purple backpack to slip over one shoulder. “You two have a great day and we’ll see you around.”

 

Arthur waved goodbye and wondered if there was going to be time. They looked like such a nice family, but Eames couldn’t stay young forever. Eames tugged on his sleeve, pulling Arthur from his thoughts. “What is it, buddy?”

 

Eames pressed his forehead to Arthur’s. “I like you lots,” he whispered seriously.

 

Something small and tender unfurled within Arthur’s heart. “I like you lots, too.” Somehow, little Eames had wormed his way into Arthur’s heart, and he was going to fully enjoy the unknown time he had with the boy.


	6. Chapter 6

“Hello Arthur, thanks for meeting up with me on such short notice,” Ariadne said as she settled down into the chair across from the point man. She flashed him a grateful smile at the cup of chai tea already ordered for her. “How are you doing, by the way?”

 

“Fine,” he responded. At her unamused quirk of her eyebrows he elaborated. “A little tired, but Eames and I are doing well now that we’ve settled into a routine.” It kept Eames happy, clothed, and fed while Arthur could continue to do research work for Cobb. (Yusuf had made himself scarce between experiments to avoid an incredibly unhappy Cobb who hated delays in a job.)

 

Satisfied, she took a sip from her tea. “Well you should have things in order after all that time you’ve been looking after him.”

 

“That _was_ supposed to only be temporary,” he reminded her. One week had bled into two, and then three as Yusuf tirelessly worked to return Eames to normal. Well, normal for him at any rate.

 

Ariadne hummed in response as she looked over the café menu. “Where is Eames today?” She’d noticed Arthur’s near-present man bag was absent from its spot usually hung over the back of a chair or squarely by his feet.

 

A waiter came by their table to take their order. “We met a new friend at the park a while ago, Jack and his girls Liana and Elora.” Arthur ordered his second cup of coffee along with one of the café’s quiche specials. “They took him for the day to go to the zoo since they have season passes.” He added in a chocolate pastry after a moment of deliberation.

 

“That’s so cute,” she gushed. She placed her order before turning to direct her full attention at Arthur. “And actually, that’s some good timing as I did hope to get you alone to meet with me without your little buddy.”

 

Arthur didn’t like that tone in her voice. “Oh?” His fingers plucked at the linen napkin in his lap.

 

“Cobb thinks Yusuf might have found a breakthrough in his reversal serum. So you shouldn’t have to babysit Eames much longer. Maybe until the end of tomorrow.” She pouted at the thought of no more baby Eames. “Sort of a shame because he’s just so _cute,”_ she murmured as an afterthought.

 

“Well that’s…great,” he said and studiously tried to avoid the unexpected feeling of disappointment curling in his stomach. “And you couldn’t have shared this information over the phone?”

 

“Because I know you, Arthur, and I know you like to pretend everything is great when it’s not.” Ariadne’s eyes flicked up to meet his with a searching look. “Your relationship with Eames isn’t going to be the same.”

 

Arthur scoffed. “What relationship?” They certainly hadn’t done more than the occasional fuck when they weren’t sniping at each other (well, Eames really did the bulk of annoying him which Arthur tried to studiously ignore because he was a _professional_ unlike some people).

 

“Don’t you ‘what relationship?’ me, Arthur.” Ariadne gave him a hard stare with a firm set to her mouth. “Cobb might be oblivious, but I’ve seen the way you two interact with each other. You’re not going to do the disservice of lying to me when you and I both know there’s something more going on between you and Eames.”  

 

She dropped her hard look at the vaguely chastised look on Arthur’s face. Honestly, men and their constipated feelings. She reached across the table and took one of Arthur’s hands into her own. “I’m just saying that it’s okay to be vulnerable and care about one another.”

 

The problem wasn’t that he didn’t care enough, but he feared he cared too much about Eames. Arthur gently pulled his hand back before the waiter came to set down their plates.

 

“Do you think he’ll change?” Arthur asked, more to himself as he reflected on child Eames. He didn’t know what would happen when Eames was back to normal. Young Eames had carved out a huge space inside of him in such a short time.

 

“Of course.” Ariadne bit into her bagel. “You’ve changed as well.” She nodded at the pastry set by Arthur’s tea. “Or are you going to tell me that sticky sweet chocolate pastry was ordered for you?” For as long as she had known Arthur, the man had never liked sweets.

 

Arthur was not going to dignify that with a response as he neatly sliced into his quiche. “So tell me what’s going on in your life,” he said to change the subject.

 

Her lips curled up in amusement, but she let it go. Her point had been made. “Well _aside_ from playing matchmaker to two stubborn men, let me tell you about these new designs I’ve been working on for Cobb’s project.”

 

She leaned in closer, pulling apart sugar packets and creating a straw configuration that reminded Arthur a little of Eames’ latest project at home. He listened with amusement, grateful for Ariadne’s friendship. He was feeling a little better about the uncertainty of the future by the time he left the café to head home. In one hand was the chocolate pastry carefully nestled in its little white box.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops misjudged that. There's one final chapter after this to wrap the whole thing up.

Arthur was in the middle of capturing Pirate Dinosaur Bones when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Arthur would have ignored it, but it went off again. And again. And again. He frowned in vague concern and stopped chasing Eames around the kitchen.

The little boy shrieked in laughter and used the opportunity to hide around the corner of the couch. “Can’t catch me!” he squealed and bounced on the cushions without a care in the world.

“Just you wait,” Arthur responded back and swiped to unlock his phone. It was from Yusuf. Ice bit cold and sharp in the pit of his stomach when he read the messages. 

 

 ** _10:40am_ ** _hey dude_

**_10:41am_ ** _Success11!!1 its FIXED_

**_10:41am_ ** _Coem 2 lab_

**_10:41am_ ** _t_

**_10:42am_ ** _today_

**_10:42am_ ** _?_

The ice spread. Eames’ laughter was nothing more than distant background noise as he looked down at his phone. This should have been a good thing but…it felt way too soon. They had another play date with Jack and the girls set up for later in the week.

He glanced up from his phone when he felt a little hand shaking the sleeve of his arm. “Arthur?” Eames asked and looked up at him with a worried frown. “You sad?”

Arthur bent down to scoop up Eames in one arm. “Only a little bit,” he said softly.

Eames studied him with startlingly serious eyes for a child. “Don’t be sad, Arthur,” he said with his little arms wrapped around Arthur’s shoulders. “I’m right here.”

The point man squeezed Eames in a tight hug, kissing the top of Eames’ mess of ruffled hair. He typed out in a quick reply with his free hand before slipping the phone into his back pocket.

 

 _ **1**_ ** _0:50am_ ** _Eames and I will be there after lunch._

 

Eames wiggled in his arms. “Wanna play!” he demanded.

“We can,” Arthur said soothingly and set Eames down, “but let’s do it after you eat.” He ignored his phone buzzing in his pocket.

\---      

“And you’re _absolutely_ sure this is going to work with no negative consequences?” Arthur gave Yusuf a suspicious look while eyeing the beaker filled with some sort of neon blue liquid. Eames was securely in his arms making grabby hands at everything that was just out of reach in the chemist’s lab area.

“What do you take me for, an amateur?” Yusuf scoffed.   At Arthur’s unamused look he put his hand over his heart. “Arthur, I swear this will be fine for Eames to consume and he’ll be back to normal. Look, it even smells like blue raspberries.” He tilted the beaker towards Arthur in a silent invitation.  

“Hmmm.” Arthur hiked up Eames higher on his hip as he leaned forward to take a cautious whiff. It definitely did smell pleasant, and no doubt tasted like one of adult Eames’ favorite fruit candies that always stained the center of his tongue blue. “When should we do it?” 

Yusuf idly scratched behind one ear. “We can do it right now,” he said.

Right now. The word seemed to echo hollowing inside of Arthur.

“I bought one of those sippy cup things kinds like – you know it was super hard to find in this area of town you would not believe the stink eye the lady behind the counter gave me,” Yusuf rambled on oblivious to Arthur’s fragile expression. “Anyway, I finally found one on discount and poured the serum into it.” He jerked his thumb towards the red race car sippy cup hidden behind some beakers and test tubes. “He takes the serum, sleeps it off, and when he wakes up he’s the same obnoxious forger we all know and love.”

“Arthur! Want!” Eames demanded excitedly when he noticed what the chemist was pointing to. “Want cup!”

Arthur hugged the little boy tighter. “Okay,” he said after a moment to collect himself. He straightened his shoulders and reached over to pull the sippy cup from the mess of Yusuf’s things. Better to do it now without thinking about it.

“Eames,” Arthur said, the words catching in his throat when big blue-green eyes immediately locked onto him. “Eames, now what did we say about proper gentlemen?” he admonished gently.

Eames’ nose scrunched up in thought before he burst out, “Lil’ genelmens say please!” He broke out in a brilliant smile. “Please Arthur, want cup.”

Arthur couldn’t help but smile as he ignored Yusuf’s whimpering that he wished he had a camera. “Excellent, now you have to promise me that if I give you this cup you’ll drink all the juice, okay?”

The little boy eagerly nodded. “Kay.” He chirruped in happiness when the cup was given to him. Small fingers carefully curled around the plastic handle while he sipped. It only took two sips before Eames was out like a light snoring softly in Arthur’s arms.

Arthur gently kissed the top of Eames’ head. “How long until he turns back?” he asked and carefully pulled the cup from Eames’ lax fingers. 

Yusuf shrugged and checked his notes. “Maybe a couple hours? Nothing much to do than wait right now. Cobb’s going to be here shortly anyway so we can get started on the job again.”

The point man nodded absently. It could have just been his imagination, but the boy seemed a little heavier than a couple minutes ago. “I’m going to set him down,” he murmured to no one in particular. There was an old, ugly floral print couch in the corner of the warehouse that the team used when they wanted to take a quick nap. Arthur’s feet carried him to that couch to gently set Eames on there now, smoothing out the cowlick of hair and draping a blue striped blanket over the small body.

“Pleasant dreams, Eames,” he said softly. He spared one last look before heading back over towards his desk. Every so often his gaze flicked up to check on the form curled under the blanket. He wondered how much Eames would remember his stint at a child again. He wondered if Eames would remember how much Arthur loved him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished. Sorry for the wait. Just something light and fluffy and a little bit typical romance.

It’d been several days since Eames had turned back to normal, and not once had the other man come over to talk with him outside the usual pleasantries.  Arthur had tried not to dwell on his feelings of hurt and loss while the team had worked on finishing up the latest project. They weren’t in a relationship, so he shouldn’t have expected that Eames would have flung himself into his arms and declared his love the way child Eames had often done. 

 

It was fine. 

 

He was fine. 

 

Everything was fine.

 

Arthur sighed, sheets rustling loudly in the silence of his bedroom as he sat up to get out of bed.  He didn’t need to glance at the glowing blue numbers on his alarm clock to know it was way beyond midnight. Only in the quiet hours before dawn could Arthur be honest with himself. 

 

He wasn’t fine. 

 

His apartment was too big and too quiet and too dark after all the time he’d spent with a rambunctious child running around.  Even his bed was too uncomfortable without the feeling of a little warm body pressed up against his side as if the closer Eames got the farther away the closet monsters would be. 

 

Arthur veered off towards the kitchen on the way to his living room.  If he wasn’t going to sleep then the least he could do was start planning for a side project he was working on. It wasn’t necessary but it kept him busy instead of dwelling on things best left in the past.

 

Tonight he wanted a mug of hot chocolate while he worked. It was because he didn’t have any coffee, he insisted to himself, while opening the cupboard to pull down the hot chocolate mix and a small saucepan.  It definitely wasn’t because young Eames had influenced him to make something sweet before weekend bedtimes.

 

Arthur grabbed the half empty bottle of whole milk from the fridge when his eye caught something white sticking out of the bottom of the appliance.  He frowned and nudged the door closed with his hip before reaching down and snagging it between two fingers. 

 

He wasn’t prepared for the flood of feelings piercing through him at the sight of one of Eames’ drawings done on the back of a coffee stained napkin.  There were marker scribbles that Eames had loudly claimed was of the two of them holding hands while wearing capes. Each of them had big diamond rings on because Eames had declared their superpower was love to fight all evil in the world.  

 

Arthur’s eyes stung as he tucked the little drawing into the pocket of his robe before pouring the milk into the pan and stirring in four spoonfuls of cocoa powder. He wondered if Eames remembered the afternoon he’d spent drawing it.  

 

He wondered if Eames was okay.  

 

He wondered if Eames missed him.

 

His eyes snapped to the front door when something made a small noise in the hallway.  The hidden gun near the kitchen doorway was in his hand in an instant as he silently slid to the front door.  Body coiled with anticipation he glanced through the peephole before all the tension went out of his body.

 

He flicked the safety back on before unbolting his door to throw it open.  “Eames.” 

 

The other man looked more rumpled than usual wearing mismatched clothes, a beat up satchel, and his hair sticking up every which way as if he’d run his hands through it one too many times.  “Hello, pet,” Eames said quietly. 

 

“You look like shit.”  Arthur’s mouth had an incredibly bad habit of running away from him when he was unexpectedly flustered.  Especially by men he was in love with showing up at his door like some bad romcom movie. 

 

A crooked little smile spread across Eames’ face.  “Language, Arthur,” he chided. “You wouldn’t want little ears to pick up such naughty words.  Or so I’ve been told.” He waggled his eyebrows.

 

“Get in here before the neighbors think there’s a homeless man out to rob me,” Arthur sighed and stepped back to let Eames in.  His hands were steady when he set his gun down and re-locked the door, but his heartbeat was not.

 

Eames’ eyes tracked around the living room.  “Bit different than I remember it,” he commented softly before dropping down on the couch.  He set his leather bag next to his feet.

 

“I cleaned up a bit.”  It was the first thing Arthur had done after coming home so he wouldn’t be reminded about little Eames.  All of child’s toys were now in a trash bag that he would give to Jack’s little girls if they wanted it. “Your child self was even messier than you are now,” he muttered more to himself.  He set his gun back in its hidden space.

 

Eames seemed more comfortable now that he was sitting down.  “I’m sure I was the perfect little gentleman, love.”

 

Arthur snorted in response.  “It’s such a shame Yusuf’s experiment damaged your memory even further.  Be sure to write down your address so you won’t lose your way home.” This was familiar.  This was safe and Arthur could handle that, slipping into this banter that was as comfortable as his favorite pair of leather shoes.

 

Judging by the way Eames was now stretched out on the couch as if he owned it, the other man felt the same way too.  “I remember enough.” He propped his feet up on one of Arthur’s many throw pillows. “Like the fact that you snore when you’re really tired.”

 

“I do not,” Arthur automatically denied.  

 

“Or the way you sing offkey in the shower.”

 

Arthur’s face flushed.  “I have a perfectly melodious voice,” he said crisply.  “Just because your music tastes are as poor as your fashion choices-”

 

“Or the way that I couldn’t sleep without you near,” Eames barreled on in that same maddenly even voice.  He shrugged a little too casually and glanced up at Arthur. “I still can’t,” he went on during the silence. “Took me a bit to figure out why.”

 

Arthur’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the flood of emotions. He swallowed hard and tried to get himself under control.  Carefully, he placed his hand atop Eames’. “I couldn’t either,” Arthur admitted quietly. 

 

Eames’ open smile was just as beautiful as Arthur remembered it.  It almost hurt to look at. 

 

The forger twined their fingers together, gently tugging Arthur towards him. “Arthur, I-” whatever Eames was going to say was suddenly drowned out by the high screaming of Arthur’s fire alarm. 

 

Arthur snapped his head towards the kitchen where wispy, dark gray smoke was starting to skirt along his ceiling. 

 

“Did you install a virtue alarm, pet?” Eames smirked. 

 

“Shut up and grab a magazine,” Arthur demanded to cover up his embarrassment. He quickly disentangled their fingers to get up towards the kitchen. He could hear the flapping of pages coming from the hallway as Arthur shut off the stove and moved the burned milk to the sink.

 

Eames was already back on the couch by the time Arthur returned to stand beside the couch.  The alarm was shut off and the curled up magazine deposited on the end tale. “So much for hot chocolate,” Arthur murmured more to himself with a sigh.

 

Eames gave a short bark of laughter.  “Hot chocolate, Arthur?”

 

“So?”  The point man frowned in startled irritation.  There was nothing wrong with it.

 

Eames chuckled and bent down to pull something out of his leather bag.  “I made some as a peace offering,” he said and held up a thermos. “I was going to say it’s probably not as good as when you made it for me, but I might reconsider it now.” 

 

Arthur’s frown melted into a reluctantly dimpled smile.  They still had a lot to talk about, but for the first time since Eames was changed back, Arthur felt like the two of them would be okay.

 

He threaded his fingers through Eames’ hair and tilted his head up for a kiss.  Followed by another one. And another one. “Let’s go to bed, Mr. Eames,” he said gently against temptingly plush lips.

 

A low rumble emitted in Eames’ chest right before he got up and swept Arthur into his arms.  “Arthur, I think that might be the best idea yet.”

 

His life was definitely a romcom movie.  It wasn’t music blasting from a boombox in a declaration of love, but it was close enough.  He would never admit it to anyone (especially Ariadne), but he didn’t find the notion entirely intolerable.


End file.
